ing and
dirty, who were squatted on the ground, and praising at the top of
their voices the fruits and sweetmeats which they were offering for
sale. Thence we proceeded directly into the principal street (Rua
Direita), whose only beauty consists in its breadth. It contains
several public buildings, such as the Post-office, the Custom-house,
the Exchange, the Guard-house, etc.; all of which, however, are so
insignificant in appearance, that any one would pass them by
unnoticed, if there were not always a number of people loitering
before them.

At the end of this street stands the Imperial Palace, a commonplace,
large building, exactly resembling a private house, without the
least pretensions to taste or architectural beauty. The square
before it (Largo do Paco), whose only ornament, a plain fountain, is
extremely dirty, and serves at night as a sleeping place for a
number of poor free negroes, who, on getting up in the morning,
perform the various duties of their toilet in public with the most
supreme indifference. A part of the square is walled off and
employed as a market for fish, fruit, vegetables, and poultry.

Of the remaining streets the Rua Misericorda and the Rua Ouvidor are
the most interesting. The latter contains the finest and largest
shops; but we must not expect the magnificent establishments we
behold in the cities of Europe--in fact, we meet with little that is
beautiful or costly. The flower-shops were the only objects of
particular attraction for me. In these shops are exposed for sale
the most lovely artificial flowers, made of birds' feathers, fishes'
scales, and beetles' wings.

Of the squares, the finest is the Largo do Rocio; the largest, the
Largo St. Anna. In the first, which is always kept tolerably clean,
stand the Opera-house, the Government-house, the Police-office, etc.
This, too, is the starting-place for most of the omnibuses, which
traverse the town in all directions.

The last-named square is the dirtiest in the whole town. On
crossing it for the first time, I perceived lying about me half
putrid cats and dogs--and even a mule in the same state. The only
ornament of this square is a fountain, and I almost think I should
prefer it if the fountain were, in this case, taken away; for, as
soft water is not very abundant in Rio Janeiro, the washerwoman's
noble art pitches its tent wherever it finds any, and most willingly
of all when, at the same time, it meets with a good d